


The Court of King Kalchenka

by Fliggy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ancient History, Archaeology, Fantasy, Gen, Mystic Ruins, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 22:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20143363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fliggy/pseuds/Fliggy
Summary: We were not the first civilization to lay claim to this Earth, that I know.





	The Court of King Kalchenka

We were not the first civilization to lay claim to this Earth, that I know. Over the course of my many journeys, I came across old statues, monoliths, dating back to before the dawn of human history. The legends of those that lived in a time before antiquity are recorded there.

One of them I remember well, a legend etched into a massive stone slab in the desert. The night before, a sandstorm had whipped across the land, uncovering old secrets. The next morning, outside my pitched tent, there it lay. Previously enveloped by the sands, the slab must have been at least forty feet wide and forty feet long, and carved into it in deep strokes was the story I now tell you. Though the language would have been unfamiliar to most, I recognized it. It is the language that appears on the walls of our oldest temples, in the burial places of our first ancestors. Who were these people, and when did they live? Such questions are impossible to answer definitively.

The story on the slab went like this.

A long time ago there was a king by the name of Kalchenka. He was the king of a great empire (aren't they all?) in a land of long, twisting rivers and impenetrable mountains. But this king, like all creatures on this Earth, was mortal. After a thousand years and a thousand more, the King Kalchenka felt the first touch of death and became afraid.

He summoned his court ministers, his royal servants, his palace advisers, and his priests. To them he gave the following command: they must find the cure to death.

The search was on. Far and wide they searched, to the bottoms of the deep, twisted rivers and to the very tops of the cragged mountain ranges. Rare plants and animals were found and brought to Kalchenka's court, most of which have no doubt long vanished from the face of the Earth. All manner of witches and wizards were petitioned, but none of those that answered knew of a cure for death.

Finally, the architects of the empire banded together in the construction of a massive tunnel down into the desert. There, deep underground, the tunnel emerged into the land of the dead, where the architects requested that Death himself address the concerns of the king.

So it was that Death came to the court of Kalckenka.

(The translation, here, becomes imprecise. The marks on the slab become deeper and more furrowed. The conversation between Death and Kalchenka, though, went something like this.)

“What is your request? Why have you asked me here? I am Death. I do not bring gifts to the courts of men.” Death said.

"I seek a cure to death, so that I may live forever and not join you in your realm," the king answered.

“There is a cost,” Death said. “Life must be paid for by death.”

“How many lives?” Kalchenka asked. He gestured to his court. “Take as many as you wish. I suppose that, without servants one cannot be a king, but what I gain in return is without equal. Take my people and cure me of death.

"So it is done," Death said, and with a wave of his hand he turned the court of Kalchenka into dust.

"This is not what I asked for," Kalchenka said.

"I will give you what you have asked for." Death said. "All things that live must die. Here is your cure. You shall never die, but you will never live again either." And with another wave of his hand, he turned Kalchenka into a massive stone slab, forty feet long by forty feet wide.

Then he said this to the people of the place known as the court of Kalchenka. "Your king promised me your lives in return for his wish. But your souls already belong to me, as do all of those who set foot upon this Earth. You are already mine." And then Death departed, leaving the people behind.

And with that the story finishes, for I had reached the bottom of the stone slab on which it was inscribed. After reading the end, I understood why the carvings on the stone were so deep, so furious.

An interesting story. The quest for immortality, the arrogance of man, the downfall of kings, and the symbol of Death… all wrapped neatly into a story millennia old. I measured my location and marked it down, promising to return…

I would come back, years later, to find the slab gone, no doubt buried again by the ever-changing landscape of that great desert. I camped out for as long as I could, searching. I never found the slab again, but one night, my eyes alighted on something. In the pitch black, a dim light shone out from a spot in the ground, half-buried by the sand. Walking over to it, I saw where it was coming from. There, entering into the ground, was a half-open doorway, and beyond it, a massive, spiraling staircase, descending far, far, down, illuminated by some flickering light. The bottom was shrouded in dark. How much further it went I could not possibly guess.

I stared down at those enormous stairs for what seemed a very long time. A part of me tugged incessantly, reciting to me my duty to explore, to discover all the secrets that this world holds. But, I confess, I eventually turned back, leaving it to be buried once again by the sands of the desert.

There are some mysteries, I think, that are best left mysteries, some lands which are best left unexplored. I have no desire to live forever… but nor do I wish to meet Death before I so need to.


End file.
